


Let's Go All The Way Tonight

by Anonymous



Series: Stupid Deep [8]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: (pretend) virginity kink HJDSFHS, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Big Dick Richie Tozier, Blow Jobs, Comeplay, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Fantasy Fulfillment, Felching, Finger Sucking, M/M, Married Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Romance, Size Kink, Switching, honestly they're just having a great time, richie tozier's praise kink, somewhat silly roleplay, the ghost of eddie kaspbrak compels me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:01:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25152847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Eddie pulls away, throat bobbing, and says, on a whim, “Tonight was really nice.”Richie hums, grinning, and kisses the edge of his jaw. “Yeah.”And something about this whole situation, this date and this strange formality and Richie’s hand on his thigh like he’s thinking about getting to third base, makes Eddie say, “You wanna...come inside?”---It's Richie and Eddie's wedding anniversary and Eddie is feeling indulgent.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Series: Stupid Deep [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1512914
Comments: 100
Kudos: 596
Collections: Anonymous





	Let's Go All The Way Tonight

**Author's Note:**

> I used a bunch of prompts and suggestions from followers on twitter so legally you're not allowed to judge me

Richie says a lot of weird, impulsive shit when they’re having sex. 

Eddie doesn’t judge him. He’s equally mouthy as hell, and in the moment, he’ll say literally anything to get Richie riled up, whatever horny shit pops into his head, whether he means it or not. They both lose their filters at a certain point, and they both know to take anything either of them says with a grain of salt. Eddie on the verge of orgasm is much more into public sex than any version of himself with half an actual brain. Richie knows he doesn’t _actually_ want to get off in a gross public bathroom or under the table at a restaurant. He just says it, sometimes, the same way he sometimes tells Richie he never wants him to stop fucking him. He doesn’t _mean it._

In the same way, Richie spouts horny nonsense like it’s his fucking job during sex, and Eddie only ever expects half of it to ever come to fruition. _I want you to suffocate me with your thighs_ and _I wish I could fucking watch you fuck me._ Richie’s not shy about asking for the things he actually wants, outside of the heat of the moment. Eddie feels confident that anything he actually wants to happen, he’ll make happen. 

Eddie also feels like, after two years together—one year of being married—he’s heard just about everything. He figures they’ve explored every kink, uncovered every repressed fantasy. They’ve crammed a lot of sex into those two years, and it’s not like they’ve pulled any punches. He’s always surprised, at this point, to be surprised. 

“God, Eddie,” Richie says, face buried in his neck, cock pushing deep inside him, achingly familiar. “Love you so much, babe, love how you feel.”

“Uh huh,” Eddie says, scraping his nails gently up and down his broad, sweaty back. 

“Love making you come,” Richie gasps against his throat, hips rolling slow and shallow, barely pulling out before pushing back in, like he can’t bear not being balls-deep inside him. “Love it when you come twice for me.”

“I know,” Eddie says, pushing sweat-damp hair out of his eyes. He doesn’t think they’ll get there tonight—it’s late and he’s tired and he has work in the morning—but it’s just as much a special treat for Richie as it is for himself. 

Richie pulls himself back, visibly forces his eyes open in the half-light from the bedside lamp. “Love to look at you,” he says softly, even though he has to squint a little without his glasses on. “God, you’re gorgeous.”

Eddie grins, open-mouthed as he pants, and reaches up to cradle Richie’s face, arching his back to hit a familiar, incredible angle. “Look your fill, babe.”

“I’ll never look my fill,” Richie says, pushing deep into him, grinding against his ass. “So happy every day to have you.”

Eddie moans softly, pulls him back down against his chest. Richie hasn’t gotten any less sappy in the past year since they got married, and Eddie loves that, loves the way Richie loves him, loves the way Richie never makes him second-guess even for a second how devoted he is. 

He loves that Richie never seems to lose that sense of wonder at the two of them, together. Richie sniffles into Eddie’s shoulder as he fucks him, kisses the warm skin there, says, “You make me feel so good, baby.”

“You too,” Eddie breathes, hands roaming over his back, his shoulders, his ass. 

“Sometimes I can’t believe I get to have this, god, you feel so good, every time, no matter how many times.”

“Every time,” Eddie agrees, rocking his hips up against him in a counterpoint rhythm. 

“I thought about it so much, always thought about how good you’d feel,” Richie says, words slurring, clumsy in his mouth. “I didn’t even get close, god, fuck, you feel amazing. But I thought about it. Wish I could have been your first.”

“Mmm,” Eddie hums, pleasure licking delicious up his spine. “Might as well have been.”

“I know,” Richie says, voice barely a gasp. He’s getting close, Eddie can feel it. “I know. Wish I could have been for real, though. Go back in time. Always wanted to be your first.”

Eddie mouths sloppily against his temple, where sweat is collecting along his hairline. “Really? Wanted to take my virginity, Rich?”

Richie groans, sudden and almost shocked, hips faltering as he fucks into Eddie. “Yeah, fuck, _god._ So bad. I wish— _shit_ —I wish. I could have seen you. Completely, god, fucking shocked by how good it felt.”

“You still did,” Eddie says, body singing now as Richie fucks him just right. He knows exactly how to do it, exactly what Eddie likes, how to make him feel good. Nothing at all like their first time, couldn’t be _farther_ from the way Eddie actually lost his virginity. 

“I know,” Richie practically sobs. “I still wish, though. Wish I could have seen it. Wish I was there.”

“Yeah?”

“So bad, Eds, so bad, wanted to be the first person to ever see you like that, touch you like that, fuck you—”

And Eddie doesn’t get a chance to respond, because Richie’s shifting just a little, picking up his pace, and Eddie knows he’s done for, awash with pleasure. Richie hitches his hips up an inch, pushes one thigh farther back, thrusts hard and deep, and Eddie comes with something close to a yelp. Richie follows just on the tail end of Eddie coming down from it, and the sensation of him coming inside Eddie is just as good as it was the first time. He sighs, warm and sated, and pets Richie’s hair back from his face, and kisses him when Richie whines. And it’s all just… _really_ fucking good. And like usual, he kind of forgets about the things Richie said in the midst of it. It only seems fair.

***

He remembers again, of course, at work the following week. That’s usually when mid-coital shit comes back to him in vivid flashbacks that make it hard for him to concentrate on anything other than trying not to pop a boner at his desk. It’s mostly just because their anniversary is coming up, and he’s not sure how to make it special, and he starts trying to think about what Richie might want. And all that comes to mind is Richie saying, _“I wish I could have been your first.”_

Which. That’s not something he’s ever brought up, before. Eddie knows Richie was in love with him when they were younger, that he wanted Eddie in high school, so it makes sense. But he’s never said it in as many words before, never specifically said he wanted to be the first, the _only_ person Eddie ever had sex with. Eddie’s entertained the thought before, a little. Mostly just that Richie’s the only person he’s ever had _good_ sex with, and he can’t believe it took him 40 years to realize he was exclusively into men, and that he wishes he never had to go through all that other mediocre-at-best straight sex in the first place. That he wishes he could have had this sooner. 

But sitting at his desk, now, trying to look like he’s not thinking about sex with his husband on the clock, he thinks about the way Richie reacted when Eddie asked him if he wanted to take his virginity. The palpable thrill that went through him. And obviously, _obviously_ Eddie can’t give that to him. Those days are long, long gone. And he does not have the joy of being able to manipulate time and space. Nor would he ever want to return to that specific time in his life. 

But. _But._

He thinks about it. 

Their anniversary is a week away, and Richie insists he doesn’t want anything special. Says some sappy shit about getting something special every single day, et cetera et cetera. And Richie’s not really a gifts kind of guy. For the most part, he’s a words of affirmation guy—praise kink and all. But Eddie gives him those every day. Leaves him notes and shit sometimes, even, because they make Richie cry. He doesn’t have anything special left to say, beyond the basics—I love you, I’m so happy I married you, this has been the most incredible year of my life. That’s not quite enough. 

Richie’s second love language, though, when he took that dumb test, was acts of service, followed closely by physical touch. And Eddie thinks he can work with that.

***

The day of their anniversary arrives, and Eddie still hasn’t made up his mind about his...surprise, but he’s okay with that. So much of his and Richie’s relationship has just been letting things happen naturally, following whims, and anything he’s tried too hard to plan out—namely, their clusterfuck of a proposal—didn’t exactly go over well. So he thinks about it, but only idly, and decides to leave it up to how he feels in the moment.

The moment is certainly _not_ 7 in the morning, when Richie wakes him up fifteen minutes before his alarm is set to go off with happy, indulgent kisses pressed into his throat and jaw. 

“Happy anniversary, sweetheart,” Richie hums in his low morning voice, and Eddie is tired and has to get up for work soon but for now he smiles and wraps his arms around Richie’s broad shoulders and kisses him back, slow and sappy. 

He doesn’t usually like kissing before he’s brushed his teeth unless he’s too horny to care, but it’s a special occasion. So he swallows his complaints and rolls on top of Richie and kisses him hard enough to make them both dizzy, and says, “One year down, the rest of our lives to go.”

It’s cheesy, but it makes Richie’s eyes bright and wet, which was the intention. Eddie grins at him, and sucks a kiss from his mouth, and then they get out of bed to make breakfast. 

They’d both elected not to take the day off work today, hoping to save up vacation days for a longer trip later in the year, so Eddie pulls himself regrettably from the arms of his affectionate husband at 8:30 to head to the office. Richie texts him twenty minutes later to cry over the note Eddie left him—Eddie’s not stupid—and at lunch Eddie receives flowers from a courier that he rolls his eyes at, but smiles and puts into a vase at his desk. 

He goes straight to the restaurant after work, as planned, and meets Richie there. He looks handsome and happy, already seated at their table in his suit and tie, jumping up to pull out Eddie’s chair for him as he approaches, eyes bright behind his glasses. They settle in, they order, they eat. 

It’s a good day. Eddie isn’t really one for extravagant celebrations, enjoys just getting to spend time with Richie, making the day feel special in small ways. They’re dressed up and eating nice food, but they’re also kicking each other under the table like they always do at home, they’re laughing with their mouths full, they’re reminiscing about their wedding day in a way that could be more easily described as completely dunking on their past selves and every single one of their guests. It’s good. It’s perfect. 

And then they’re heading home, and Richie took an Uber so that Eddie can drive them both, and Richie’s hand is on Eddie’s thigh, and they both _know_ they’re going to have sex. That’s not the question, that’s never been the question. There’s anticipation building between them as they draw closer, and Eddie knows it’s not because they know they’re going to have sex. It’s because, at this point in the night, neither of them are sure yet how it’s going to happen. 

Eddie almost bails. He parks the car in the garage and almost thinks, _fuck it. I’ll let him lead the way. He probably has something he’d like._

But then he turns to Richie, and he’s smiling at Eddie, soft and fond, and he’s leaning across the center console to kiss Eddie slow and chaste. And then his tongue slides across Eddie’s lower lip, and his hand tightens on Eddie’s jaw, and something primal and anticipatory licks across Eddie’s consciousness. He pulls away, throat bobbing, and says, on a whim, “Tonight was really nice.”

Richie hums, grinning, and kisses the edge of his jaw. “Yeah.”

And something about this whole situation, this date and this strange formality and Richie’s hand on his thigh like he’s thinking about getting to third base, makes Eddie say, “You wanna...come inside?”

Richie’s eyebrows hitch up his forehead, a little confused, a little intrigued. “Yeah,” he says slowly. “I’d...like that.”

Eddie smiles in response to Richie’s questioning look. He turns and opens his door. 

They make their way inside, and Eddie isn’t at all surprised when Richie pins him gently against the kitchen wall in the middle of Eddie shrugging out of his jacket, capturing his mouth for a deep, indulgent kiss. Eddie hums into it, struggling to free his arms where they’re trapped in his sleeves, and Richie smiles and presses their bodies together and kisses him again, and again. 

“You look so good tonight, babe,” Richie hums, thumbing the corner of his mouth and then helping him push the jacket onto the floor. “So hot, christ.”

Eddie huffs a laugh against his mouth, wants to tell him that he got changed in the bathroom at work, that Agnes whistled at him on his way out. But he has other things he wants to say. He’s ready to commit to his bit, here. “Richie,” he breathes, pitching his voice low and a little needy. He pushes at his chest, and their lips part with a wet sound. He swallows hard, looks up into Richie’s face, bites back a smile at the want written plainly all over it. He bites his lip. “Rich. Slow down.”

Richie’s face twitches, and he visibly falters as he tries to match Eddie. That’s what makes everything they do together so good, Eddie thinks—the way they adjust to each other, accommodate, adapt. The way they take everything in stride, pick up cues, realign what they want so that they’re always matching up. “Yeah,” Richie says now, hands going to Eddie’s waist, wrapping around his hips. “Yeah, babe, we can go slow.”

Eddie can’t help but smile, now, breaking character a little as he presses his thumb into the crook of Richie’s elbow, settles the other on one wide shoulder. Can’t help but smile both at Richie, so easy and so predictable, and at what he’s about to say. He wets his lips. “I’m just— nervous.”

That really throws Richie for a spin, and he coughs out a sound that might be an incredulous laugh even as concern flits across his face. Eddie loves him so much. “You’re—what? Why? What’s wrong?”

Eddie moves his hand from Richie’s arm to his stomach, slides his palm up over his ribs, has to take a moment to fight the smile off his face so that he can blink up at Richie steadily, affect innocence. He clears his throat and says, as seriously as he can, “I’ve never been with anyone before.”

Richie’s eyes flash, and he visibly has to choke back a laugh, which Eddie doesn’t hold against him—Eddie’s trying not to laugh, too. They’ve never really done much of this, roleplay stuff. Richie laughs too easily, and Eddie tends to think it’s ridiculous, and reality’s better, anyway. But sometimes Richie pretends to pick Eddie up at the bar. Sometimes Eddie acts like he’s a reluctant fan. Picking up roles isn’t completely foreign to them, and Richie, well. It’s not like he’s a stranger to improv. He knows how to slide into a new persona at a moment’s notice. 

He grins, and mutters, “Oh my god,” and then he crowds up against Eddie, pressing him into the wall, and murmurs, “Really? You’ve never...with anyone?”

God, it’s so hard not to smile, especially at the eager tone in Richie’s voice. Eddie tucks his face into Richie’s throat to hide it, kisses the skin there gently. “No. I was...waiting. For the right person.”

Richie hums, pulling Eddie’s shirt out of his slacks, touching his hand to Eddie’s jumping stomach. “And I’m your guy?”

Eddie huffs, squirms against him. “I think so,” he says. “If you want to.”

“Yeah,” Richie breathes, his body a solid line pressed all along Eddie’s. “Yeah, fuck. I want to. Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says, kissing the corner of his jaw, feigning shyness. “I’m sure. I’ve wanted this for a long time.”

Richie groans, then, and Eddie thrills with victory, with the knowledge that Richie is _into this._ He couldn’t be sure if he would be. It’s one thing for Richie to say, in the middle of sex, that he wishes he was Eddie’s first. It’s another to enjoy pretending to be. 

But Richie’s always gotten a kick out of living out his adolescent fantasies. So Eddie’s not all that surprised. 

They make out in the kitchen for a while, because Eddie thinks that’s a hallmark of young love. He divests Richie of his jacket and tie, licks into his mouth, moans maybe a little too loudly when Richie fits a thigh between his legs and pulls at Eddie’s hips to grind his hardening dick against it. This is all a thousand times more tame than most of the stuff they get up to, but Eddie’s really getting into it now, this mindset, this idea that he’s never done any of this before. It wasn’t that incredibly long ago that he _was_ doing these things for the first time, with Richie. But he tries to think back farther than that, tries to think back to a time when he’d never felt anything even close to this good before, to when he didn’t know what it was like to get off with another person and any of this would have shocked him. 

It’s a little ridiculous, but Richie’s eyes are dark with hunger, and he grabs at Eddie’s hips, touches him reverently, voice thick as he says, “Fuck, Eddie, I’m going to make you feel so good. I’ve always wanted to make you feel good like this.”

Eddie kisses him clumsily, lets himself be sloppy, like he doesn’t know what he’s doing. He rubs his cock against Richie’s thigh. “Have you, fuck, have you done this before? Anything?”

Richie pulls back to look at him, to blink a question at him. Eddie smiles a little, twitches his head to the side. Richie grins back. “No,” he says, pushing his hands up Eddie’s shirt to touch his stomach. “No, I’ve. I only ever wanted to do it with you.”

Eddie wants to laugh, delighted at this entire scenario. It’s so absurd, and it’s so, it’s so _fun._ He’s so happy that they get to do stupid shit like this together. But he doesn’t want to break the quiet tension between them, so he just hums a soft moan, pushes his hips into Richie’s thigh, clutches at his shirt. “Richie,” he says quietly, panting a little. “Rich. Do you want to have sex with me?”

Richie groans, their noses bumping together as he leans in fast to kiss him. “So bad,” he says, right against his mouth. “God, you have no idea. I want to so bad.”

“Yeah,” Eddie huffs, pulling Richie tight against him. “Yeah. I’m ready.”

They stumble back to their room a minute later, and Richie pushes Eddie gently down onto the bed, and Eddie lets him, because if he wants to pretend he would have been confident and assertive his first time having sex, Eddie will go along with it. Richie climbs up over him, dips down to kiss him slow and needy, and then he pulls back an inch and whispers, “So like, how old are we here? Do I need to worry about your mom in the next room?”

Eddie coughs out a laugh, tension breaking. “In a world where you took my virginity, Rich, I would _not_ still be living with my mom.”

Richie grins down at him. “Well, okay. College roommates? Are we in college?”

Eddie can’t stop wanting to laugh. “Sure. But I live alone. No one’s gonna walk in on me getting fucked for the first time.”

“Good,” Richie says, his grin sharp. He pushes two fingers into Eddie’s mouth, rubs them against his tongue, says, “God, I just want to. Swallow you fucking whole.”

Eddie moans softly, sucks on his fingers briefly, lets Richie fuck them into his mouth, and then bites them so that Richie withdraws. “Stop,” he says with a laugh. “You’re ruining my scene. No one’s ever even _touched_ me before, Rich.”

Richie moans low in his throat, a soft rumble, and looks him over. “Yeah,” he breathes. “Yeah, fuck. You’re sure you want to do this? You want me to touch you?”

Eddie bites back a smile, schools his face into something closer to nervous anticipation, and nods up at him. “I’ve thought about it,” he says breathily. “I think I’ll. I think I’ll like it.”

“I’ll make it good for you,” Richie says, all wide-eyed earnestness, and that Eddie _does_ believe. That Richie would have been like this. “I’ll make you feel so good. You— Tell me if you want me to stop, okay? Or if you need a break?”

Eddie nods, rocking his hips against nothing. “We can start slow. We can— You can take my pants off.”

“Yeah,” Richie breathes, scooting back to fumble with Eddie’s belt, and then the button of his pants. Eddie works on the buttons of his shirt, eager not to ruin one of his best suits, but before he’s finished Richie is tugging on his pants entreatingly, and Eddie is lifting his hips, letting Richie drag them off. He leaves Eddie’s boxer briefs on, looks wonderingly at the damp patch at the front of them even as he struggles to pull his pants over his feet. “Fuck, Eds. Are you— Can I touch you?”

Eddie nods, giving up on the buttons to reach out for him, pulling Richie back up over him and down to kiss him as Richie skims a hand up his flank, his thigh, and then ghosts it over the bulge in his underwear. Despite himself—despite the fact that they’ve done this _hundreds_ of times—Eddie whines a little needily, feeling bizarrely sensitive. Maybe there’s something to this roleplay shit after all. 

“Shh,” Richie says, kissing him again, sucking on his lip. “Just let me—” He curls his fingers around Eddie’s cock through the fabric of his underwear, squeezes gently, and Eddie moans and jerks under him. Richie laughs a little, soft and shocked, and Eddie looks up at him and loves how bright his eyes are, how happy he looks. He squeezes Eddie again, a little harder this time, and says, “Does that feel good?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says, maybe a little more breathlessly than he really feels. “Yeah, fuck. Feels—feels different than when I do it.”

“No one’s ever done this for you before?” Richie asks. 

Eddie shakes his head. “Never. Feels, _oh,_ it feels good.”

“Good,” Richie says. “You can— Eddie, you can touch me, too. If you want.”

Eddie swallows and nods and reaches for his belt, his fly. Licks his lip and pushes his hand past the waistband of his boxers, until his fingers meet the damp head of his cock. Richie chokes out a sound like he’s shocked at Eddie’s boldness, bucks into the touch. Eddie closes his eyes, wraps his fingers around Richie as best as he can, and says, “Holy fuck, Richie, you’re. You’re _big.”_

Richie groans, mouth hanging open as he twitches his hips into Eddie’s loose, clumsy grip. “Yeah?”

“You’re so big,” Eddie says. “Oh my god, I. Your dick is fucking. _Huge.”_

Richie laughs breathlessly, rubbing the heel of his palm over Eddie slowly. “Is that a good thing?”

Eddie pretends to think about it, like he hasn’t spent hours, _days_ thinking about Richie’s big cock, like he doesn’t know how every inch of it feels inside him, like he’s not painfully aware that he’s a size queen. “Yeah, I. I think I’d like it if you. Fucked me with it.”

Richie makes a strangled sound, hips pushing that big cock into Eddie’s hand. “Shit,” he breathes. “Shit. Are you sure? Today?”

Eddie grins up at him breathlessly. “Yeah. If you want to. I’d...I think I’d like that.”

“Fuck,” Richie groans. “Yeah. I’d like that too. Eds, christ, I’d. I’d really like to fuck you.”

Eddie moans, and nods, and bucks up against Richie’s hands. “I think we’ll need less clothes on for that.”

Richie huffs a laugh. “You’re not nervous?”

“No,” Eddie says, biting his lip. “Not with you.”

Predictably, Richie’s eyes go a little shiny. “Aw, Eds,” he says. 

Eddie loves him so much. “Come on,” he says, pushing up against Richie’s hand again, pulling his own hand out of Richie’s pants to fumble at the buttons of his shirt. “I want to—I want to see you.”

Richie hums, and together they scrabble at buttons, push at fabric. Richie loses his pants, helps Eddie with his shirt, and then Eddie pushes _Richie’s_ shirt down over his shoulders and can’t help but say, “Fuck, Rich, if you were this fucking big when we were younger maybe you _would have_ been my first.”

Richie barks out a laugh, letting Eddie run his hands over his shoulders, his arms, his chest. “Stop breaking character, you fucker, I’m trying to pretend you’re a nubile virgin.”

Eddie snorts, pets at his chest hair, thumbs his nipple quickly. “Okay, last scene break, get it all out of your system.”

“I love you so much,” Richie says instantly, like he’s been holding it in. “You’re so wonderful and this is hilarious but also I love it. Also if I think about blushing virgin Eddie Kaspbrak too much I feel like I’m going to die. Sorry if I baby you too much, I’m just excited. Oh, and don’t think I don’t realize this is why you haven’t let me fuck you in a week.”

Eddie grins. “What do you mean? I’ve never been fucked in my life.”

Richie groans like he’s dying. “I’m sorry, I know virginity is a social construct. I just think it’d be nice if I was the first person to touch your dick.”

“Then touch it,” Eddie says, hitching one knee up around Richie’s hip, pulling him in close to where Eddie is propped up against the headboard. 

Richie takes one deep breath, like he’s preparing to go underwater, and then his face changes to something more earnest as he says, “Are you sure?”

Eddie bites his lip against a grin. “I’m so glad I married you.” 

_“Eddie,”_ Richie whines. 

Eddie laughs. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry, okay, I just love you so much, you’re so— Okay. I’m done.”

“Well, what the fuck, I’m glad I married you too,” Richie says with a little sniffle. “Now stop ruining your own roleplay scene.”

“You’re so weird,” Eddie sighs happily. “Make out with me a bit.”

Richie goes down willingly, and Eddie gets his hands all over him, spans his ridiculously broad back with both palms, licks into his mouth and bites at his lips and feels up his chest, his stomach. And it’s good, it’s really good, Eddie loves kissing him, even now, two years after that first time. He loves that he still loves kissing him. 

And it helps him settle back into his role, making out sloppily on the bed like this in just their underwear, feeling Richie’s cock rub up against his hip through two layers of fabric, drowning in the sensation of Richie touching him, cradling him, exploring his body with careful hands like he’s never done it like this before. And of course they’ve done this before, so many times, but Eddie is surprised by how much he likes pretending that they haven’t. He likes getting lost in this fantasy that he’s never really been touched like this before, the way it heightens his senses just through suggestion. He feels like every nerve in his body is singing, and he doesn’t even have to make himself twitch and sigh and moan, because he’s doing it automatically. 

“Yeah,” Richie breathes, sucking kisses into his throat. “God, Eds, so responsive.”

“Feels good,” Eddie hums, scratching gently up Richie’s back, digging his fingertips into solid shoulders. 

“Yeah? How’s this feel?” Richie presses his entire body down into him, aligns their cocks, grinds against him. 

Eddie’s voice cracks around his moan. “Oh, fuck. Rich.”

Richie grins against his jaw, rolls his hips down against Eddie, and then stutters out a groan of his own. “Shit. Babe.”

“Yeah,” Eddie breathes. “God, Richie, you’re so big.”

“You like it?” Richie says, shy in a way he hasn’t been in _years._

Eddie hums his approval. “Yeah, I like it, I like—all of you. I want you.”

“Me too.” Richie kisses him clumsily. “Can I touch you again?”

“Yeah, yes, you. You can do anything. I’d let you do anything to me.”

Richie’s fingertips drag down Eddie’s stomach, and his breath picks up automatically, his heart kicks against his ribs as Richie reaches, painfully slowly, into his boxer briefs to wrap a hand around his cock for the first time all night. 

“Christ,” Eddie chokes, bucking into his touch. “Oh. _Richie.”_

“Easy,” Richie breathes, stroking him slowly. “Good. You’re doing so good.”

“Feels good,” Eddie says, eyes closed, kicking one foot out like a dog getting its belly scratched. 

Richie thumbs over the head of his cock, rubs his free hand over Eddie’s cheek. “What do you want me to do? I’ll do anything.”

“More,” Eddie says, hips moving restlessly. “Touch me— I want you. Inside me.”

“Shit,” Richie breathes, curling his fingers tight around him. “Are you sure?”

Eddie whines a little pathetically. “So sure.”

Richie makes a noise as he pulls away like it hurts him. He goes straight for the bedside drawer—forgetting that this is supposed to be just Eddie’s room, but that’s fine—and yanks it open to find the bottle of lube there. He pulls it out, and then hesitates and says, “Fuck, Eds, we. We don’t have condoms.”

It’s true—they don’t. They use them occasionally, for the sake of saving themselves the mess, but they ran out a while back and haven’t bothered to restock. Eddie is miles away from giving a shit. 

“I don’t care,” he breathes, spreading his legs wide and wanton as he waits for Richie to return to the bed. “I don’t care. Want you anyway.”

Richie glances at him, bites his lip. “You’re sure? I know it’s, it’s my first time and it’s your first time, too, but—”

“Please, Richie,” Eddie says, and he knows his hair is a mess, his cheeks are hot, his eyes must be dark and desperate. Knows his mouth must be red and kiss-bitten, that the wet patch at the front of his tented boxers must be obvious. He licks his lips. “I want it. I want to feel you. I want—” He pauses, looks away for a moment. Feels bizarrely shy as he says, “Want to feel you in me. Your come in me.”

Richie moans like he’s never heard Eddie say it before, and it’s _glorious._ “Yeah,” he says, climbing back onto the bed, pushing his fingers up between Eddie’s legs, between his cheeks through the fabric of his underwear. It makes Eddie keen high in his throat, the sudden, almost rough pressure of it. “Yeah, fuck, Eddie. I want that too.”

Eddie squirms against his touch, increasingly desperate. “Come on, Richie, please. Touch me. I—I’m going to need a lot of prep. To take your cock.”

Richie hums, sucks a quick kiss under his ear. Rubs over his rim through his underwear again, just to torture him. The sound Eddie makes is embarrassingly horny. “God,” Richie says, voice low and rough. “You’re loud in bed, aren’t you?”

“I guess so,” Eddie says, panting out quick breaths. “I can’t help it.”

“I like it,” Richie tells him, and Eddie lights up like it’s the first time he’s heard that. 

Before he can say anything else, though, Richie is dragging his underwear down his hips, curling one hand into Eddie’s hair as the other trails down the crease of his ass to press right up against his hole. His hands are still dry, and he doesn’t press in at all, but Eddie gasps as his body reacts all the same, ass clenching, cock twitching. 

“Shit,” Richie says, like he’s the one being groped. “God, Eddie, the way you feel here. So hot and needy.”

“I’m going to lose my mind,” Eddie tells him seriously. 

Richie huffs incredulously. “Well, you’re the one making me do all the work, babe.”

“You’re the one taking my virginity,” Eddie argues. 

“You’re taking mine, too, remember?”

“Yeah, well.” Eddie squirms against his hand again. “What do you want me to do? Ride your fingers?”

Richie moans softly at the thought of it. “Would you?”

Eddie grins. “Get me opened up a bit. Then I will, for you.”

Richie moves obediently, finding the lube again, coating his fingers with it, warming it up against his skin. He looks at Eddie hungrily, drags his gaze all over his body, over his torso and his leaking cock and his legs. “You look so good, babe,” he says, pushing his hip until he turns over, onto his stomach. Eddie spreads his legs entreatingly, pillows his head on his arms to watch Richie over his shoulder. “So fucking sexy.”

Eddie wants to say _good enough to eat?_ but he knows virgin Eddie would _never,_ so instead he says, “You think so?”

“Yeah,” Richie says, licking his lips, spreading his ass a little with his dry hand. “God. Good enough to eat.”

Eddie hides his grin in his arms. God, they spend too much time together. “I’d let you,” he says, breath stuttering as Richie’s fingers press against his rim again. “Eat me.”

Richie hums, rubbing circles around his hole, slow and steady, never pressing in. “I hope you mean, like, eating you _out._ Because I’d be really fucking into that.”

Eddie laughs breathily, pressing back against him. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s what I meant.”

“Good. Yeah. Fuck.” And then, without further warning, Richie eases one finger into him. 

Eddie really _did_ refrain from letting Richie fuck him for the week leading up to this specifically for this purpose. He doesn’t get this kind of stretch that often anymore, not unless Richie’s away for a week or two for tours or press circuits. He’s nowhere near as tight as he was the first time he ever tried fingering himself, nowhere near as tense, but he still feels every inch of Richie’s finger sinking into him, spreading him open. He moans softly, bearing down on him, and Richie moans back, like he’s getting off on it, too. 

“How’s that feel?” Richie breathes. 

“Good,” Eddie says. “Weird,” he lies. “You can move.”

Richie moves, but so slowly, sliding his finger all the way out, and then all the way back in. Eddie tries to press back against the intrusion, but Richie holds onto his hip, holds him still, fingers him so deep and slow with just the one finger that Eddie feels a little shaky with it. 

“Fuck,” he says. “Fuck, Richie. What are you doing to me?”

“I’m fingering you,” Richie says, and it makes Eddie laugh. “Have you ever done this to yourself?”

“No,” Eddie says on a whim. “It feels so good. I love it.”

“Yeah? God. You _look_ like you love it.”

Eddie hums, tries to wiggle his hips back. “Give me another one.”

Richie takes his sweet time, opening him up thoroughly just with the one, pumping it in and out at a glacial pace before sliding a second finger in alongside it. As soon as they’re both inside him as deep as they can go, Richie’s hand lets go of Eddie’s hip, and Eddie starts rocking back against them eagerly, riding Richie’s fingers like he promised. 

“There you go,” Richie says above him, voice low and hungry. “That’s so good, Eddie, you feel so hot and wet inside. How does it feel for you, is it good? Am I doing good?”

Eddie tucks his knees up under himself so that he can push back harder against Richie’s hand, feels his fingers sliding and pushing into him. “So good,” he says clumsily, cock hard and bobbing between his legs. “You’re stretching me so good.”

“Did I get your prostate?” Richie asks, though they both know he hasn’t. 

Eddie shakes his head. “I don’t think so. Maybe if you just—” He arches his back, and Richie curls his fingers a little, and it’s _perfect,_ because they know how to do this. Still, he chokes on it, shivers through that first shock of pleasure. _“Oh._ Right there, fuck, fuck, Richie. Fuck me just like that.”

“Yeah? You want me to do it like this?” Richie fingerfucks him quickly, one, two, three thrusts. Eddie’s spine bows with sensation, and then Richie says, “Or do you want me to fuck you properly? Do you want my cock?”

“Yes,” Eddie says immediately. “Please, oh fuck. I want your cock.”

“Yeah, I thought so. Can you take another?”

Eddie nods, and Richie pours more lube over his fingers, an obscene amount, and then he’s pushing a third finger into him alongside the first two, leaning in to kiss the curve of his ass, pressing all three fingers so deep into Eddie that he feels it in his spine. 

_“Ohhhhh,”_ he moans, burying his face in his arms. “God, Richie, that’s so much.”

“Too much?” Richie asks, fucking him slow and deep with them. 

“No. No, it’s good.” Eddie breathes out, feels himself relax around Richie’s fingers, suck them in. 

Richie groans a little, pets Eddie’s flank with his dry hand, rubs it down the curve of his spine, uses it to spread his ass. “You look so _good,_ Eds, god. I. I always wanted to see you like this. Just for me.”

Eddie makes a vague sound, arches into every touch, relishes the way Richie curls his fingers inside him, rubs against him in all the right places. Obviously, he and Richie never knew each other during their college years, or any of their young adulthood past high school, but sometimes it’s nice to pretend that they did, that maybe instead of being achingly lonely they were together, and Richie was lusting over him like this, wanting him. That instead of Eddie being stuck in a cycle of shitty relationships, he was falling for his best friend, wanting him so badly in a way that would all end like this, with the two of them in bed, and Eddie moaning like he can’t get enough. 

“Do you want me now?” Richie asks, voice rough with arousal, stretching him so well. “Are you ready?”

Eddie wants, desperately, to say yes. He honestly _is._ But he committed to this bit, and he’s going to follow through with it. “Not yet,” he gasps, pushing back against his fingers. “You’re so fucking big, Rich, just do it like this some more, get me ready for you.”

And honestly, it’s not much of a sacrifice, to lie there prostrate as Richie twists his fingers inside him, squeezing more lube into him, the sounds of it sloppy and wet. And then Richie is pushing at his shoulders, urging him to sit up, pulling his fingers out of him to sit against the headboard and tug Eddie into his lap so that they can make out messily as he reaches around to slide all three fingers back home. He can’t get his fingers as deep like this, but they both know the purpose of this isn’t _really_ to get him ready. It’s just to...to revel in this, in this preparatory stage, this slick, hot anticipation. Richie’s still in his boxers, and Eddie grinds against the bulge in them as they make out, and then back against Richie’s fingers, and if he whines and mewls and curses a bit more than he really has cause to, well...it’s all part of the scene. 

“Fuck, Rich, you feel so good,” he says, hands scrabbling at Richie’s shoulders. “Your fingers are so thick, fucking hell.”

“Mmmm, fuck. Need you to do this to me sometime,” Richie sighs, sucking a kiss just under his chin. “You’re fucking loving this.”

Eddie tips his head back and grins up at the ceiling. “Yeah. I will.”

Richie licks up the column of his throat quickly, like he can’t help it. The hand not pushing relentlessly into his ass twitches on his hip, then moves to brush over the head of his cock. “God, Eddie, you’re so fucking wet. Dripping for me.”

Eddie hums and hitches his hips forward, against Richie’s cock, his own sliding against Richie’s bare stomach, leaving a trail of precome there. Richie sighs wantonly, and curls his fingers wickedly inside Eddie, and then he says, “Please, Eddie, please let me fuck you. I’m going to lose my mind.”

Eddie moves to kiss him, grinning against his mouth. “A trademark of every good first time,” he mumbles. “Absolutely just fucking losing it with how badly you need to fuck.”

Richie laughs breathlessly into his mouth, and says, “Please, Eds, please, please. I need it so bad.”

“Yeah. Do it, Rich, fuck me.”

Richie groans like just hearing it kills him. “How do you want it?”

Eddie presses a soft, messy kiss against Richie’s slack mouth and says, “Let me ride you?”

 _“Yes,”_ Richie says, a whine in his voice. “Yes, Eddie. God. For your first time?”

Eddie has to bite back a laugh. “Don’t question me. It gives me some control.”

“Yeah, take it. You can have all the control, baby.” Richie slides his fingers out of him, squeezes his hip. “Lift up, I’ll scoot down.”

Eddie lifts; Richie scoots. When Eddie lowers himself again, he’s sitting on Richie’s stomach, soft and warm and sweat-sticky, and his cock is dripping precome onto it steadily, and Richie looks perfectly content. 

“Hey,” he says, petting Eddie’s side, dragging a finger through the sticky mess on his stomach. “I love you.”

Eddie smiles down at him, leans over to kiss him firmly. “Love you too,” he murmurs, and then, more quietly, “Happy anniversary.”

When he pulls back, Richie is beaming, and Eddie shifts back to straddle his thighs and drag down Richie's boxers, his cock bobbing free, thick and hard and wet. Eddie hums low in his throat, wanting to get his mouth on it but knowing now isn’t the time. “Fuck,” he says instead, voice pitched low and overwhelmed. “So fucking big.”

Richie licks his lips and says, “Do you think you’ll be able to take it?”

“I don’t know,” Eddie says, wrapping a hand around the base. It really is a _fucking_ handful, and even now if he thinks about it too hard it amazes him. “I want to.”

He’s in the middle of lifting up when Richie squeezes his hip again and says, “Wait.”

Eddie frowns, looks down at him. “What?”

Richie looks a little shy as he bites his lip and looks up at Eddie through his lashes. “Can you, uh. Turn around?”

Eddie can’t help but snort. “You don’t want to look at me? For our first time?”

Richie shrugs ruefully. “You can turn back around later. I. I want to see it. Go in.”

Eddie moans softly. He knows that feeling—it’s the main reason why they _ever_ do it from behind. “Okay,” he says, and swings his leg over Richie to reposition. As soon as he straddles Richie again, now facing away from him, Richie’s hands lift to his ass, spread his cheeks. One slick finger presses against his rim, and Eddie feels the way his hole spreads around it, opens up for it. He hisses out a soft breath, and then reaches back for Richie’s cock. Richie’s hand pulls away from his ass, wraps around Eddie’s, like it’s a joint effort. Eddie lowers himself carefully, eyes closed, and together they press Richie’s cock against his rim, and it sinks into him. 

They both moan at the same time, even though it’s only the head of Richie’s cock inside him. Eddie stops there, holds position, remembers the way it felt the first time they ever did this. How overwhelming, how intense. Now, it feels achingly familiar, the stretch of it, but he hasn’t forgotten. His body clutches at it desperately, and he doesn’t give in, just letting it sit there, the tip of his cock, teasing him. 

“Shit, Eddie,” Richie rasps. 

“Holy fuck,” Eddie says, pulling off and then pushing back on, letting the fat head pop past the ring of muscle there. “Richie, shit.”

Richie makes a strangled noise, clutching at his hip with his free hand. “Oh fuck Eddie you’re _killing me.”_

Eddie does it again, pulling off and pushing back on, enjoying the feeling of it, the sensation of Richie breaching him. “Add more lube,” he says. “I’m not wet enough.”

He feels Richie’s hips twitch restlessly under him. “Yeah. God, Eds, you have no idea how you look.”

“Good, I hope,” Eddie says with a breathy laugh. 

_“So_ fucking good. Here—” There’s the click and squeeze of the lube bottle, and Richie bats away his hand to slick up his cock. “Try that.”

Eddie hums, presses back down onto his thick cock, lets it sink into him a couple inches this time, forcing him open, filling him up. He moans reedily, licking his lips as he feels Richie spread his ass again, knows that Richie is watching them raptly where they’re connected. He rocks his hips showily, arches his spine, pushes down a little farther. He feels incredibly gratified when Richie whines, thumbs at his rim even as he scrabbles at his hip with his other hand, desperate for him. 

“You feel so, so good,” Richie moans. “So hot and wet and tight. Is it good for you, Eds? Does it feel good?”

“Yeah,” Eddie gasps. “Yeah, you’re doing so good. You’re so thick, you’re stretching me so wide. How does it look?”

“Incredible. Shit, the way you’re opening up for me, baby.”

Eddie shivers, sinking down another inch. He knows intimately what it looks like, knows the way he looks pushing into Richie and also knows, from dozens of pictures and videos Richie’s taken of him, how he looks with Richie’s cock inside him. He squeezes his eyes shut and imagines it, his rim stretching wide around Richie's cock, shiny with lube, sucking him in. It makes his mouth wet just to think about it. “God, Richie, there’s so much,” he says as he lowers himself farther. “How is your dick so fucking big? I’m being fucking impaled.”

“Yeah, shit, Eddie, I’m filling you right up,” Richie sighs. “So deep in you.”

Eddie reaches back and grabs for his hand, pulls it around to his stomach and presses his palm flat there, right over where he can feel his cock inside him. “Can feel you here, Rich, fuck. I can never, _oh,_ I can never have sex with anyone else, fuck.”

Richie makes a breathy, desperate sound, fingertips digging into his abs. “Yeah, yeah, just with me. Just for me.”

Eddie feels his ass meet Richie’s hips, and he grinds down against him, gets Richie inside him as deep as he can go. Even now, after two years, he feels impossibly big in this position, overwhelmingly thick and long. Eddie pants heavy, open-mouthed breaths into the sweat-sticky air of their room, shifts his hips against the sensation, the incredible fullness, feeling every single inch of him. He hits an incredible angle like this, too, if Eddie arches his back and leans back a little, and he abruptly feels shockingly close to coming. 

“Oh, Richie, fucking...shit. I think I’m gonna come. I’m gonna come on your dick.”

“Yeah? Fuck, yeah, I’m fucking you so well, aren’t I. Turn around, Eds, I want to see you when you come.”

Eddie licks his lips and begins the process of turning around without pulling all the way off of his cock, and it’s a lot of effort, but it’s worth it for the choked sounds Richie makes, and the way he feels Richie’s dick shifting inside him, hitting all the right spots. When he settles again, facing Richie again now, Richie’s face is red and his eyes are dark and wet, and Eddie loves him so fucking much. 

“Yeah,” he gasps at last, rocking back and forth on his cock now, letting it sink deep into him. _God,_ he’s really stuffed full, his body hot and tight with it. “Yeah, you’re fucking me so well. It feels amazing.”

Richie groans, watching him intensely, both hands spanning his waist. “Can I move? Can I fuck you?”

Eddie nods, and Richie pushes his hips up into him, and it lights Eddie up inside, makes him want to scream. He arches and moans, leaning forward to brace his hands against the headboard and using the leverage to bounce on Richie’s cock as best as he can, shivering with pleasure. It’s not as intense as their first time, but it feels almost startlingly good, strangely new despite everything. Eddie feels intensely aware of every sensation, the shape of Richie inside him, the stretch of his rim, the slick hot slide of Richie’s cock against his walls. It’s all so familiar, and yet he feels like it’s been a long time since he _felt_ it like this. 

“You feel so good, Eddie, god, better than I ever imagined,” Richie is saying mindlessly. “Just want to fuck you forever, want you to always be sitting on my cock.”

Eddie huffs a half-laugh, trying to get Richie deeper inside him, and says, “At the breakfast table?” because it’s something Richie has brought up on _multiple_ occasions during sex. Eddie sitting on his cock while they eat breakfast. They’ve only ever done it a few times—it’s honestly really difficult to pull off in a way that’s more pleasure than hassle—but Richie loves to talk about it. 

Richie moans, though, like it’s something that’s never occurred to him. “Please,” he whines, “please, I want you to sit on my dick in the morning, at the table, and— And to anyone else it’d look like you’re being cute but underneath you’re squeezing around me, trying to make me come—”

Eddie laughs again, exhilarated, and mentally vows to do that for him, tomorrow. Anything for him. “Come on, Rich, fuck me, make _me_ come.”

Richie bucks up into him, pushes deep into him. “Yeah, baby, come for me, come on my dick.”

 _“Ahhhh,_ fuck, Richie, yes. Harder, babe.”

“God, yeah, can I flip us over? Want to fuck into you like that.”

Eddie nods, and Richie rolls them over easily, has long since mastered that particular move, and then he’s settled between Eddie’s legs, lifting up his hips with one hand and thrusting into him, fucking him strong and deep. Eddie moans loudly, eyes rolling back in his head at the feeling of it, of Richie letting go, filling him up over and over. And he’s so good at it, knows exactly how Eddie likes it, how hard and how deep and all the right angles, and it drives Eddie _wild._ Their first time was so good, and it’s fun to think about, to pretend, but god, the sex has only gotten _better._ They know each other so well, everything that elicits a reaction, that makes the other wail. And it’s so, so good. 

Eddie can’t hold out against the onslaught. They know how to have sex that will last, and this isn’t it—this is Richie trying to get him _off._ Eddie whines and writhes and pleads, and Richie keeps fucking him like that, fast and powerful. 

“Come on, baby,” Richie says, begging him, wrapping a hand around Eddie’s weeping cock. “Come on, come for me, I want to see how you come, want to see how it feels for you to come on my big cock.”

And Eddie does, unable to stop himself. Comes long and hard, fucking up into Richie’s hand, splattering come across his fist and stomach. Richie grunts, fucking him through it, and then he releases Eddie’s cock, braces himself, and keeps fucking him, mouth slack with pleasure as he chases his own climax. 

“Yeah, yes,” Eddie gasps, bracing his hands back against the headboard above his head. “Come on, Rich, come in me, I’m ready. You did so good, you did amazing, come inside me.”

Richie chokes as he comes, shudders and bucks his hips wildly, spilling deep inside Eddie in a way that’s so deeply satisfying Eddie moans with him. 

“Oh, _god,”_ Eddie sighs. “Yeah. That’s so good.”

Richie lowers himself weakly on top of him, smearing Eddie’s come between them, knocking their noses together clumsily before kissing him. Eddie smiles into it, bites at his lip, sighs out his contentment. 

The room is hot and Eddie is sticky with sweat and beyond sated, happy and stuffed full with Richie’s softening cock still inside him, leaking come, but he also knows the second Richie pulls out and slides two fingers back into him that they’re not finished yet. 

“Oh,” he breathes, spreading his legs to give Richie room. “Oh my god.”

“Mmm,” Richie says, settling on his side next to Eddie. “You’re so wet here. I did that.”

Eddie feels himself blushing, even though this is _far_ from an uncommon occurrence. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, that was all you.”

“Turn over,” Richie hums. “I want to see it.”

Eddie goes easily, pressing his soft cock into the sheets and resting his head on folded arms.

Richie slides his hand over Eddie’s back, and then sits up, settles next to Eddie as he spreads his ass wide, slides his fingers back into him with a lewd sound. “Oh, yeah, fuck. Look at you. Sloppy with it.”

Eddie whines, a little overstimulated but revelling in it. “Feels good,” he murmurs. “You keeping me full.”

“Want to keep you full with me,” Richie says. “You look so good. Fucking edible.”

Eddie licks his lips and spreads his legs a little wider. 

Richie thumbs at his rim, fucking his own come back into Eddie, and then he says, “Eddie. Do you think you could come again?”

Eddie knows, from experience, that he could. Still, he says, “I don’t know. I don’t know.”

“I want you,” Richie says. “Can’t get enough of you. Can I?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says. “Anything.”

Richie’s fingers slide out of him with a slick squelch, and then the bed dips as Richie gets off, and Eddie bites back a yelp as he’s yanked by the ankles farther down the mattress, until his legs are hanging over the edge. He holds his breath, shivering, as Richie grips both his thighs in his big hands, and then kisses along the curve of his ass, in towards the center, and then, all at once, pushes his tongue into him. 

Eddie makes a sound he is not particularly proud of, high and loud. There’s something about this, Richie licking into him where he’s raw and stretched and wet, that absolutely obliterates him. He keens high in his throat as Richie thrusts his tongue into him, licks at him where he’s dripping with his come, tasting himself there like he’s starving for it. Eddie can’t get enough of it, mewling and rocking his ass back against Richie’s mouth, and it’s so gross, it’s wet and sloppy and disgusting, and Eddie fucking loves it. He scrabbles at the bedsheets, and his cock is starting to twitch against them, his singing nerves at once soothed and lit up again by Richie’s tongue. He sobs with it, mouth clumsy, and manages to say, “Holy fuck, Richie, yes, yes, more. Love the way you feel, never felt anything like this before.”

God. Imagining his first time going like this—Richie fucking him and then eating his come out of his ass—makes Eddie feel insane. He rocks his hips against the mattress and feels himself thicken faster than he has in months. 

Richie moans into him like he’s feeling the same way. He lets go of Eddie’s thighs to rub his hands over his ass, spread him open so that he can push his tongue deeper into him, sucking and licking like he’s desperate for it. Eddie feels like he’s been drugged, he’s so hazy with pleasure and arousal, and his body’s still recovering from the _last time_ he came, not that long ago. He feels like he can barely take it. 

But Richie is relentless, licking into him messily, massaging his ass with both hands, fucking him with his tongue, and Eddie can feel come and saliva sliding down his perineum, messy and hot. He’s never felt so thoroughly fucked in his life. 

It takes a long time for Eddie to be ready to come again, and Richie’s jaw can’t last that long, so he takes breaks, pulls away. Fingers Eddie sloppily in the meantime, panting against his ass and saying, voice hoarse, “That’s it, baby, you taste so good, I love you so much, want you to feel so good.”

Eddie writhes and whines and drools against the bedsheets, legs moving restlessly, fingers curling in his hair like he’s going to have to start tearing it out just to cope. 

“Can you come again?” Richie asks, sucking a bruise into his ass. “Eddie? Can you come? I want to see you come one more time on my tongue.”

“Yeah,” Eddie gasps, feeling it just beyond his reach. “Touch me, I can do it.”

Richie shifts back, pulls Eddie with him until his cock is hanging thick and wet between his legs, and pushes his tongue back into him as he reaches around to tug at his cock, slow and torturous. 

Eddie wails, and squirms, and feels hot tears drip down into the sheets. He completely loses track of time, only aware of how good he feels, Richie’s tongue inside him, his hand moving over the head of his cock. When his orgasm finally hits, it feels like it’s being yanked out of him, a powerful quaking that’s almost painful. He sobs it out, and Richie moans his agreement, right into his ass. Eddie thinks he blacks out for a second. 

When he finally comes down from it, he’s lying bonelessly half on the bed and half on the floor, and Richie is rubbing his hand up and down Eddie’s sweaty back, soft and soothing. Eddie feels like he’s died. 

“I’m dead,” he groans, just to make sure Richie knows. 

Richie huffs a laugh against the back of his thigh. “Sorry.”

“No,” Eddie says. “Thank you. It was a good way to go.”

“Got fucked once and only once,” Richie says regretfully. 

“Excuse you, I got fucked _twice,_ and _very_ thoroughly.”

“Right, true. Good enough.”

Eddie grins, and then lies there for another few seconds to breathe, because he feels completely winded. He thinks maybe he might never come again. He does not tell Richie this. 

Richie says nothing, staying where he is on the floor between Eddie’s legs, petting him softly, waiting for him. Finally, Eddie groans, and turns over, and sits up. His ass is wet and gross on the sheets, but they’re already completely fucked, so he gives it up as a lost cause. 

He leans back on his hands, exhaling deeply, and looks down at Richie on the floor. He’s kneeling there patiently, looking up at Eddie with wide, earnest eyes, waiting. His cock is hard and thick between his thighs. 

Eddie smiles, and reaches out to stroke through his damp, messy hair. Richie nudges his head up into his touch and smiles back. “Hey,” Eddie says. 

“Mmm. Hey.”

Eddie tips his head to the side, curls his hand around Richie’s jaw to tilt it up towards him. “There’s my big, strong man,” he says, voice soft and warm. “There’s my good boy. You did so good.”

Richie’s eyes go wide and soft. He blinks up at Eddie hopefully.

Eddie hums, pulls his hand back to drag it through the come smeared on his stomach. He reaches out, and Richie opens his mouth instantly, lets Eddie push his fingers past his lips, rub them against his tongue like Richie did to him earlier. Richie sucks on them obediently, without Eddie having to tell him to, and hums out his pleasure, eyes fluttering. 

“You did so good for me,” Eddie repeats, fucking his mouth with his fingers gently. Richie stares up at him quietly, lapping at his fingers like he’s chasing the taste of his come. “You deserve anything you like. You let me know what you want, yeah? Think about it and then ask, I’ll do anything for you. Anything that doesn’t involve me getting hard again.”

Richie’s throat bobs, and he lets Eddie fuck his mouth with his fingers for another minute while he thinks about it, tongue between his fingers as his cock twitches and his hands clench on his knees. Eddie likes doing this, this low-stimulation thing, because it’s easy and it feels good and it doesn’t ask for anything. It just _is._ And he likes the way Richie looks, soft and lax and attentive, sucking on Eddie’s fingers like it’s a treat. 

Finally, Richie pulls off and says, voice raw, “Finger me? And blow me, maybe, but like.” He shifts. “You looked like you were really enjoying it. Earlier.”

Eddie hums, licking his lips. “Yeah, sweetheart, I can do that for you. Anything you like.”

They’d lost the thread of the plot there for a bit, which Eddie honestly hadn’t minded, but Richie picks it back up again now, smiling up at Eddie and saying, voice shy, “I’ve done it to myself before. Thought of you.”

Eddie moans softly, imagines Richie alone in his room, fingering himself, thinking of Eddie, trying not to be too loud as he fantasized about it. And obviously _now_ there’s no need for that kind of thing, both of them just ask for things when they want it, but. The picture it paints is kind of hot. Richie all needy and desperate. Wanting Eddie’s fingers so bad. 

“Yeah,” he says roughly. “Get up here. I’ll give you everything you want.”

Richie is happy to be led exactly where Eddie wants him, propped up against their pillows, legs spread wide. Eddie settles against his side, reaches between his legs, tugs on his thick cock a couple times just to get him warmed up. And then he’s reaching for the lube, and saying, “Like this?” as if he’s never fingered anyone before, and nudging his fingers up against his rim. 

Richie gasps, and his mouth goes slack. Eddie grins and pushes two fingers into him, slow but merciless, and Richie arches in response, hips twitching into the sensation. 

“There you go,” Eddie says, pushing in all the way up to his knuckles. He leans over, seals his mouth over Richie’s nipple, sucks gently. Richie’s pecs fill Eddie’s mouth nicely, and Richie moans sharply at the dual sensation, at Eddie sucking on his nipple at the same time as he curls his fingers inside him. When Eddie pulls off, it’s to say, “How’s that feel, is it good? I want you to feel so good, you did so good for me.”

“Yeah, fuck, I love it,” Richie gasps, his ass spreading around Eddie’s fingers beautifully. “Oh, _shit,_ you know how to use your fucking hands.”

“Am I doing it right?” Eddie asks coyly, pushing as deep into him as he can. “Is this how you imagined it to feel to get fingered by me?”

“It’s perfect,” Richie says, eyes fluttering shut, pushing down against him. “It feels amazing.”

And Eddie knows it does, because he’s done this to Richie a hundred times, especially when he gets into one of these moods, when he wants Eddie to take care of him. He knows that Richie likes to be fingered slow and deep, likes his prostate massaged until he can come just from that, a bone-aching orgasm. Eddie knows he’s supposed to be pretending he doesn’t know how to do this, but he can’t, not when Richie is all spread out for him, begging for it, needing it, and he already did so good for Eddie, made him feel so good. He deserves this. 

So Eddie coaxes it out of him, every shiver and moan and sharp gasp, uses three fingers to rub over his prostate in tight circles, and then thrusting deep and hard, feeling the way Richie pulses around him. At the same time, Eddie licks over his nipples, sucks a bruise into his chest, into his shoulder, into the soft skin at the edge of his armpit, and Richie whines, scratches gently at his back. His stomach trembles as Eddie lowers himself to bite some bruises there, jumps under his mouth as Eddie hits a particularly good angle inside him. He mewls babyishly, and says, “Yes, Eddie, please, please, feels so good, love how you feel inside me.”

Eddie licks over the curve of his stomach, fingers him ruthlessly. “Still want me to suck you off?”

Richie makes a sound like a sob just at the suggestion. “Yes, yeah, see how much of my cock you can fit.”

Eddie grins and ducks his head to swallow him down immediately, and Richie makes a startled sound of pleasure, thrusting just shallowly enough that it doesn’t choke him. Eddie hums around him, tongues over the underside of his cock as he keeps him pinned in place with his fingers inside him. Richie moans desperately, hips twitching, and Eddie bobs his head gently, feels the stretch of his lips around Richie’s cock, the velvety wet heat of him on his tongue. He clenches around Eddie’s fingers, and Eddie doubles his efforts, massages his prostate with single-minded intent. 

“Fuck, Eddie, fuck, fuck,” Richie chokes. “I’m gonna fucking come my brains out.”

“Mmm,” Eddie says around the head of his cock, tonguing the slit. He curls his fingers with purpose. 

“Fucking hell,” Richie whimpers, and then comes hard, filling Eddie’s mouth with it. 

Eddie moans, letting Richie fuck his mouth through his orgasm, swallowing as best as he can. It feels like it goes on forever, and Eddie keeps fingering him through it, until Richie is shaking so hard Eddie thinks it must be edging past painful. He slides his fingers out of him, licks over the head of his cock one more time, and then moves up to flop down on the bed next to him. 

Richie has both hands over his face, breathing hard. “Oh my god,” he says, voice rough. “I have joined you in the afterlife.”

Eddie laughs and moves to press a kiss to his jaw. “Welcome. How was it?”

“Oh, fuck off, you know it was good.” He scrabbles for Eddie’s hand, and then just holds it, there over top of his stomach. “It was all really good. I— Thanks, Eds. This was good.”

“Yeah?” Eddie grins. “I thought maybe it was a stupid idea.”

“It was,” Richie says. “In a good way. I—I had fun.”

“Yeah,” Eddie says, and that’s his favourite part about having sex with Richie. It’s fucking _fun._ “I’m glad, you know? That we could have fun. And also really good orgasms.”

 _“Really_ fucking good,” Richie says. He’s still breathing hard. “I’m getting too old for this, I’m serious. One day I just straight-up won’t recover.”

Eddie snorts. “I’ll just stop fingering you and blowing you at the same time, then.”

“Oh, no you fucking won’t,” Richie scoffs. “I want that to be the way I die.”

“Mhmm.” Eddie pets his stomach gently with their joined hands, eyes closed. “Well, anyway. I’m glad you liked it.”

“Yeah,” Richie sighs happily. And then, “Maybe we could, like, do it again?”

“What, the same thing?”

“No, like. I mean, maybe. But also, we could like.” Richie yawns, curling into Eddie sleepily. “You know, I’ve got a whole repertoire of horny fantasies from when I was younger. And from when I was not-so-young. Like, the amount of times I thought about you being so genuinely horny for my dick that you just jumped me without us even dating or anything first—”

Eddie laughs, tucks his face into the crook of Richie’s neck. He’s absolutely disgusting, covered in sweat and lube and come, but they’ll deal with that in a few minutes. For now, he needs to bask. “Yeah, sure. Why not? It could have feasibly happened.”

“Yeah?” Richie sounds delighted. 

“I swear, I was so close to it, two years ago. It won’t be hard to pretend. If I, like, had walked in on you jerking off or something…who knows what I might have done.”

Richie hums, pleased. “Next time,” he says. And then, “Thanks for not thinking I’m weird.”

Eddie laughs right into his throat. “Are you kidding? You’re the fucking weirdest.” He kisses the soft skin under his jaw. “That’s why I married you.”

He can hear the grin in Richie’s voice as he says, “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. Thanks for marrying me.”

Eddie squeezes his hand, and feels their wedding rings click together. “Yeah,” he says. “My pleasure.”


End file.
